Of Dreamwalking and Soul Screams
by jujufish
Summary: Princess Raenell Roth longs to escape from her abusive king of a father and idiotic mother. Neamh Drathdi wishes to leave the cage she has lived in her whole life. Neither girl knows how big a part they play in the fate of their world, or how entwined their destinies are.
1. Chapter 1

If Raenell Roth had to choose the one thing she hated most about being a princess of Azarath, it would have to be the suitors.

She could deal with her pea-brained queen of a mother and her abusive father, though they were awful. She could survive the awful, gaudy dresses and gossiping servants, who were entirely despicable. Raenell could even live with the horrible, stuffy banquets and public speaking. But the suitors? Unbearable.

The first suitor came when she was fifteen. He was alright. They laughed and joked all throughout dinner. He was intelligent and mildly handsome, with purple eyes and dark hair. He was a prince from the North, cousin to King Rorek of Nol. Raenell hadn't realized his intentions to marry her until he started speaking of dowries and honeymoons during dessert.

Dessert hadn't lasted long.

Of course, Raenell had received hell from her father, King Trigon, afterwards. Apparently, slamming Prince Malchior's plate of custard into his face and breaking his nose was not an acceptable response to a marriage proposal.

With each year of no marriage, the suitors got nastier and nastier. As Raenell grew older and still had yet to marry and have children, Trigon grew angrier and angrier. Raenell and her mother, Arella, were often at the receiving end of his anger. Arella was blinded by love, but Raenell remembered every blow she received. Raenell longed for revenge, even knowing she would never receive it.

The only escape Raenell had from the hell she lived in was her weekly excursion to the City. When she was amidst her people, listening to the ringing of bells and shouting people and animals bickering, she felt at home. So very different from the peaceful, perfumed castle, the normal smells of spices, fabrics, stables, animals, people and fresh, fresh air made her feel comfortable. It was only in the city that she lost her carefully crafted façade.

To most people who met the princess, she was stone cold and stoic. It was true that this was how Raenell was. This was her personality and she had never tried to change it. It was just that when she was in the City, she was less icy and kinder. No one suspected that their princess walked among them, as she always wore a blue cape, pinned with a red brooch. It was common dress among Azarathians.

It was always interesting for Raenell to be outside the high walls and gates of her safe home. The City was so different. It was jostling, violent, harsh, but not without order. Everyone had a place and no one strayed from the path. No one stood out. Not even her, the future queen of the kingdom.

While Trigon was despised by his citizens and Arella was thought of as the dumbest Azarathian queen in many years, the people loved Raenell. Even though she was neither the warmest nor the most trusting, she was truthful and fair. And, also unlike Trigon, she cared about the wellbeing of her people, and was always seeking new ways to help them.

The citizens also admired her for her confidence, for princess Raenell was not like normal people.

In every land east of the Great Blue, there were those with odd features. They were children born with oddly colored hair or skin. Some had odd features, such as horns or a tail. Princess Raenell was one of these odd ones. While her parents were normal looking, with black hair and purple eyes, as was normal in Azarath, Raenell had vibrant, glowing purple hair that fell to her shoulder blades. She was the only Azarathian princess in history to have an Oddity, as that was what people called those strange features.

Azarath was the largest kingdom in the EasternLand. To the North was Nol, ruled by King Rorek, who was a kind, intelligent man. Raenell had met him when she was younger. They were similar in age, and had had many similarities, such as their shared love of their horses and love of reading. Trigon had rejected him as a potential suitor, simply because he did not like the way Rorek ruled his kingdom. It was completely opposite to Trigon's method, which involved much fear. Rorek ruled his kingdom with kindness.

To the West lay the kingdom of Jump, ruled by King Bruce and his adopted son, Prince Victor. Bruce was similar to Trigon in that he loved women and money. Otherwise, they were very different. Bruce also ruled his kingdom well, thinking of his denizens before himself. He had an Oddity, and it was that he could communicate with bats. He had earned the name 'Man of Bats,' and after hearing of the title, made it official.

To the East lay Zelthura, the smallest of the countries. Zelthura was directly between Azarath and the Great Blue and had been named the 'Sister of Azarath,' for the wonderful network of communication between the Queen of Zelthura, Driarda, and Trigon. The two could have been siblings, as they were so alike. Driarda, while not as cruel as Trigon, was not kind to her subjects nor to her husband, Kraken, who was Trigon's younger, more-liked brother.

Zelthura, though small in size, was the largest trading center of the whole East. With ports all along the coast and a black market that encompassed nearly the entire country, everyone was a trader.

Driarda was a ruthless, aggressive queen who cared only about herself. When she and Kraken were married, she summoned a demon and promised him her firstborn if he would cripple the king in some way. He agreed to make the king mute, as he was, as long as Driarda gave her word that she would follow through on her deal. She agreed. The demon warned her that should she die, the curse would fall and the king would regain his voice. She thought that the risk was minimal, and agreed hastily. The week after the deal was made, Driarda was with child. A week after the news of her pregnancy came to light, Kraken fell very, very ill. When he woke, he could not speak.

When the child was born, she was bald. Even so, she was beautiful and calm, watching the world around her with large, curious blue eyes.

When Driarda held her for the first time, the ice around her heart cracked.

The princess' eyes were as blue as the sky. They were bluer than the blue jays that nested outside her window. Driarda named her after these beautiful birds. She became 'Neamh,' which meant 'Bluejay' in Zelthurian. Every girl in Zelthura had two parts to her name. The first part was something that the child reminded her mother of. The second name was usually something the mother wished upon her child. Driarda was 'Silk,' named so because when she was born her skin was as soft as silk. Her second name, 'Sruu,' meant happiness. When she held Neamh against her breast, the only thing she wished for her daughter was hope. Without hope one could never endure. Without hope one couldn't survive.

Neamh Drathdi. Bluejay Hope.

The demon came, black and scaly and so evil he made the room go cold, a week later. He came for the princess.

Driarda did not want to give away her daughter, but the demon threatened her with torture and death if she did not follow through on her deal. Driarda, despite loving Neamh, was a selfish, self-centered creature. She gave the demon her daughter in exchange for her own life.

The demon, whose name was Kyd Wykkyd, took the girl to the border of Zelthura and Azarath. There, lost in a maze of trees, was a tower that stood in a clearing. The tower had no door through which to enter. The only entrance was a window, far above the ground. Too far to jump from or to climb from. Kyd Wykkyd could teleport, and that was how he got from the ground, still carrying the babe, to the main room of the tower. There were two bedrooms. The bedroom in the loft would be for Neamh and the bedroom on the bottom floor would be for Kyd. There was a washroom and a section of the room with an oven for cooking.

It was in this place that Neamh grew up.

Raenell lived in a palace, had servants to wait on her every moment of the day and could have anything she wished for at the snap of her fingers. Even though she lived a life most people envied, she longed for freedom. The castle had become a cage, and every year the walls closed in on her a bit more. Raenell longed for more than domestic life. She didn't just want to marry and have babies and be a queen. She wanted to marry a man she loved, have children and help her kingdom rise from the horror that Trigon's rule had brought upon the Azarathians.

Neamh grew up shooting arrows from her window, learning swordplay from her 'father,' and dreaming about what the world might be like. Kyd Wykkyd never let Neamh leave the tower, saying that it was dangerous, and he only survived because of his powers. She believed him. What child wouldn't believe their father?

Wykkyd was surprised as Neamh grew. She had come into the world as a bald, blue-eyed baby. By the time she was three, her hair trailed like a train on the floor behind her. Even stranger was that it was an Oddity. Neamh's hair was bright, glowing azure that shone silver in the moonlight.

As Neamh entered her teenage years, she began to question Wykkyd's views of the world. Surely it couldn't be as horrible as he said.

The caged birds who longed for freedom.

Two girls who, under any other circumstances, wouldn't have met. But Fate has a funny way of working. Neither Neamh nor Raenell realized how entwined their destinies were, or that their dreams of freedom might finally be coming true.

* * *

So this is my first fanfic. I do not own Teen Titans but I do own Neamh, as she is my OC. I watched the entire series when I was younger with my brother and recently rewatched it. I'm going to try and finish this story, but the updates might be kind of sporadic.

Peace bros!

-Jujufish


	2. Chapter 2

Raenell tugged at the hem of her heavy violet bodice. She hated this dress with a burning passion. It had been a gift from her mother for her seventeenth birthday, and ever since that day she had tried to find an excuse to get rid of it. The bodice was too tight and hot, made of ridiculously expensive velvet. The skirt was white and billowed far too much, which made it so that Raenell couldn't sit. The neckline plunged much too low and revealed much too much for her liking, though some of the male servants seemed to approve.

Raenell despised this dress, but she didn't get to choose what she wore on Suitor Nights.

Suitor Nights were the worst nights of her life. It was the night a potential suitor arrived and it was the first time they would see her, so her mother always insisted she wore ridiculously low-cut dresses to try and "impress" them.

When Raenell asked her mother why she had to dress so fancily for men who might one day see her at her worst, her mother had brushed away her question, as always, and continued to arrange flowers.

Now she stood in her parents' throne room, shrugging her shoulders and trying to get the horrible dress to sit as comfortably as possible. Her head ached sharply, and she had to resist the urge to reach up and tear out her elaborately woven hair.

Raenell's straight, shoulder-blade-length hair had been twisted up and woven with a net of black diamonds. She itched to release her tresses and run her fingers over her sore scalp.

Tonight she was meeting Prince Victor Stone, adopted son of King Bruce of Jump. According to the rumors, Victor was a hulking giant who reveled in death and gore. Arella, always inclined to believe any rumor she heard, did not want to allow Victor into her castle, but Trigon insisted. He reasoned that an alliance with Jump, who was well known for their fierceness in battle, would be useful should the people from the Other Side attack.

Raenell had gotten bored of meeting suitors a long while back. Most of them spoke to her as if she didn't understand anything they said. And most of what they said was trivial and unimportant, such as which breed of dog they preferred when they hunted, or what material was best when making sails. Raenell longed to speak with someone who held a least a semblance of intelligence. She had long ago lost hope that she would ever meet someone who she could love.

The doors to the throne room swung open as the Harold announced the intruders.

"Prince Victor Stone of Jump, son of King Bruce the second, Man of Bats," Harold announced, "and his entourage!"

The rumors were partially true. Prince Victor was hulking and large. He had dark skin and small gray eyes. He did stand well over six feet tall and seemed menacing to the unobservant eye. Servants shrank away from his as he walked by, but Raenell stood tall and proud, smirking inwardly as she noticed several things at once.

Raenell could not be afraid of the tall, dark skinned man. She could see kindness shining in his eyes, and saw that his hands shook ever so slightly. Victor Stone wasn't a vicious warmonger; he was a scared teenage boy who was meeting a girl who he might have to marry.

His group of escorts was made up of some of the oddest and most different people Raenell had ever seen.

Standing to Victor's left was a thin, wiry boy who didn't look like he was more than fifteen. His skin was pale green, his hair was emerald, and his eyes were bright green orbs filled with eagerness and excitement. Raenell studied him for a moment longer than the others. She had heard about people with Oddities of the skin, but had never been so close to one. The color suited him nicely.

In complete contrast, on Victor's other side was a man who looked about the same age as the prince. He had pale skin, thick black hair and serious blue eyes.

Beside the green-skinned boy was an innocent-looking girl with long, straight blond hair and large blue eyes. Raenell felt instant distrust for this girl, and wasn't entirely sure why.

The last person in the entourage was a girl with bright green eyes, tan skin and the most vibrant red hair Raenell had ever seen. She too, seemed eager, excited and kind.

Victor stopped before Trigon and Arella and bowed deeply. Arella nodded to him, smiling absentmindedly. Trigon looked thoughtful, and Raenell felt like she was the only one who could see the evil in his purple eyes.

"Your Majesties," Victor began, "thank you for inviting me to stay in your beautiful kingdom. I look forward to speaking with Princess Raenell in regards to marriage and, hopefully, forming a new negotiation of peace between Zelthura and Jump on behalf of my father." The speech sounded smooth and practiced, and Raenell wondered with inward amusement how many times he had rehearsed it.

"It is good to know that our desires for peace are reciprocated by our western cousins," Trigon's voice slid over and around Raenell like oil, stealing away any warmth she had felt previously. She had to fight viciously not to shiver and quake. Trigon's voice was such that it brought fear even to the bravest of men. "As to regards of marriage, we will need to see how Raenell feels about you. She can be stubborn on the subject of marriage." Her cheeks burned with a blush. Just like Trigon to embarrass her not only in front of the prince of Jump, but in front of his advisors and the servants cleaning the hall. No doubt that the tale of her shame would spread over the castle like wildfire.

"Raenell, would you take his Highness and his advisors to their suite of rooms on the fourth floor?" Arella spoke lightly, as if she hadn't noticed her daughter's embarrassment. "I'm sure they're very tired after such a long journey. We can have the servants bring your luggage up later." Pea-brained and absentminded her mother may be, but she was a wonderful hostess. Trigon turned steely purple eyes on his daughter, daring her to refuse and face unspeakable consequences.

"Of course, mother," Raenell spoke dully and without emotion, dropping her eyes to the floor as she walked. "Please follow me your highness."

Raenell lifted her skirts elegantly and walked with as much grace and dignity she could muster after such brutal embarrassment.

Victor and his advisors stayed silent until they were a good distance away from the throne room. They followed Raenell quietly for a while, when the silence was shattered by the green-skinned boy.

"That King Trigon has the creepiest voice I've ever heard." His voice sounded prepubescent and high-pitched, grating on Raenell's eardrums.

The dark-haired man and Victor turned on him in an instant, "Garfield!" They yelled in unison, the dark-haired man glancing at me to see my reaction.

It was well known throughout all the kingdoms that Trigon, should he be insulted, would respond brutally and mercilessly. Had Raenell been the snitch they expected her to be, they'd all be dead men walking.

It was good to know, at least, that she was not the only one to see the evil and maliciousness in her father's voice.

"No," Raenell spoke crisply, "he's right. Trigon is the creepiest man I've ever met." She brushed past them, and tried to ignore their surprised stares on her back.

"My lady," Victor's hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks, "allow me to introduce my most trusted advisors. This is Lord Richard Grayson," he motioned to the dark-haired man, "Tara Markov," he pointed to the innocent blond who smiled at the princess, "Lady Koriandra of Tameran," he motioned to the perky redhead, "and our resident loudmouth, Garfield Logan," last was the green-skinned boy. A low snicker escaped Raven when she saw the expression on Garfield's face. He looked similar to a puppy that had just gotten kicked.

Even a blind man could have seen how much of a family these five people were. The way they moved around each other, as if they were all part of the same being, the way they spoke to each other with raised eye brows and curved lips said everything. They were a family, and Raenell didn't belong.

She could accept that. This was not the first suitor she would turn down. It just felt different somehow. She was sadder, knowing that she wouldn't marry Victor. Raenell didn't really want to marry the man, however kind and funny he seemed to be. Raenell just wanted to be a part of a family that loved her and cared for her.

She continued to the fourth floor in silence, thinking her own thoughts and moving like a shadow. It seemed like no time at all before they reached the fourth floor and Raenell was standing with the group in front of the door to their suites.

"It was good to meet all of you," she spoke dully, masking her sadness and confusion, "I do hope you'll enjoy your stay in Zelthura." There was a chorus of 'thank you's and reciprocated sentiments. Victor lifted her grayish hand to his lips and kissed it gently. Raenell offered him a bland smile, and he responded with a wide grin. His teeth were very white and they stood out against the darkness of his skin.

"The servants can take you to the dining hall tomorrow when you wake. Good night, I wish you sweet dreams." Without waiting for an answer, Raenell turned and strode through the hallways towards her own room on the eighth floor.

Raenell had had this room since she was little. It was not huge, not was it fancy, but it was filled with memories that she wouldn't trade for the world.

She hoped that she could get Victor to leave soon, despite his kindness. While he was in the castle, she could not sneak out, as people would question her disappearance.

Raenell slept fitfully that night, and she dreamed of flying high into the clouds. She climbed higher and higher until she breached the clouds and landed in a world free of cages.


End file.
